


October Eleventh

by Spannah339



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Alcohol, Drinking, Gen, some violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-04
Updated: 2018-08-04
Packaged: 2019-06-21 16:50:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15562173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spannah339/pseuds/Spannah339
Summary: As a difficult date roles by for Hank, he upsets Connor by refusing to listen to his friend. Things come to a head.





	October Eleventh

“Lieutenant – this is your fifth drink of the night. I highly recommend we leave before you become too intoxicated to drive.”

Connor sat at the bar beside Hank, who was finishing yet another drink. The lieutenant glanced sideways at him, before waving at the bartender to bring him another drink. Connor didn’t say anything, though annoyance rushed through him briefly.

Hank had been acting odd all week. Connor had let it slide mostly, but his drinking was starting to get out of hand again and he was starting to get worried.

“Hank please,” he began, trying to reason with him.   
  
“Oh, get lost,” Hank growled, picking up the next glass. “Let me be.”

“I can’t do that, Hank. I don’t want you to hurt yourself and there is a chance that if you continue to drink at this rate you that will happen.”

“Does it look like I care?” Hank growled, downing the drink. Connor scowled, his annoyance growing.

“You may not care but I do,” he said. “I don’t want you to get hurt.” Hank didn’t answer, just called for Jimmy to bring him the bottle. He seemed to have no intentions of leaving any time soon. “Hank, I am well aware of how hard this time of year might be for you but there is no reason for you to kill yourself because of something that happened years ago,” he said sharply, annoyed – and rather angry – that Hank wasn’t listening to him.

The lieutenant slowly lowered the bottle, seeming to be barely holding in anger. He turned to Connor and the android was taken aback by the fury in his partner’s eyes.

“You are 'well aware', are you,” he spat, anger flashing. “You don’t know a _thing_ about what I’ve been through, you damned _machine_.”

Connor blinked, taken aback by the fury in Hank’s words. But they only served to fuel his own anger.

“I’m trying to help you from running yourself into an early grave!” Connor snapped, balling his fists. “If you continue to persist down this path you will kill yourself and I am trying to help you.”

People were starting to look at them now, but Connor didn’t care. He was too worked up, too angry at Hank for not listening – for never listening.

“Maybe I don’t give a damn about if I kill myself or not,” Hank snapped, turning in his seat to face Connor, the bottle clasped tightly in one hand. “Maybe you should let me get on with my own life and leave me to it! You keep trying to fix me but yer not even alive yourself.” He jabbed his finger into Connor’s chest and the android fought back the anger and hurt his comments brought.

“Stop taking your anger and grief out on me!” he said shortly, ignoring the looks of the other patrons. “It’s not my fault your son got himself killed. Maybe if you had been a better driver he wouldn’t have been hurt. Or were you drunk then too?”

Silence fell and Connor instantly regretted his words. But he was too worked up to take them back right – part of him hoped they had hurt Hank. At least then he might listen.

Hanks stood, and Connor’s LED flashed briefly red as he hurriedly scrambled to his feet as well, intimidated by the older man.

“Get. Out,” Hank hissed. Connor pulled himself up to his full height, refusing to be intimidated any more. He could smell the alcohol on the other man’s breath, could see the anger burning in Hank’s form. “I said. Get. The. Hell. Out!”

Hank’s fist was suddenly swinging at his head and Connor acted on instinct, ducking as it flew just over him. Hank stumbled, off balance, and staggered into the bar.

“Alright! Enough of that. Android, you get out of here if you’re gonna cause trouble,” Jimmy called from behind the bar. Connor, still angry, stalked past Hank as the lieutenant sank back into his seat and took a long chug off the bottle.

Connor slammed the door behind him as he stormed outside, fists clenched, LED flashing between yellow and red, body tense. Hank had no right to be so angry at him. Hank had no right to ignore his offers of help. Hank had no right to say he wasn't alive.

He began walking, not caring where just needing to cool down. As he walked, the crisp fall air biting at his skin, he began to return to his senses, to lose the anger burning in his veins. And he realised he had made a mistake – gone too far and said something he shouldn’t have.

Would Hank forgive him for that? Connor wouldn’t be surprised if he didn’t. He kept walking, his LED a solid, angry red. What would he do now? Hank wasn’t going to take him back after what he had said.

He closed his eyes as he walked, trying to calm himself. He would give Hank a while to cool down, and then offer an apology. As for what came next – he wasn’t sure. Maybe Markus would give him a place in New Jericho.

He was jerked from his thoughts by a hand around his neck, pulling him roughly back. His eyes snapped open as he was hauled into the shadows of an alleyway, his arms pinned in the grips of a group of men.

He was dragged into the darkness between two buildings, unable to break free of the hands holding him. He should have been more careful, more alert – he knew this was an area known for android attacks.

“What do we have here?” A man approached him, another man and a woman flanking him. There were two holding Connor down – only five in total. He could take five. Then a hand slammed into his chest, causing him to collapse, held up only by the two men behind him. Warning messages flashed briefly in his vision – no serious damage done.

“This is a droid free zone, tin can,” the man said. Connor now noticed the two behind him were holding a variety of blunt weapons. He needed to do something.

He sagged, allowing them to think they had beaten him. Then, as he felt their grip loosen, he moved. Ripping his hand free, he spun and slammed his fist into the face of the other man holding him. He staggered back cursing.

Connor didn’t hesitate, spinning to face the other person holding him. She ducked under his blow but – anticipating that – Connor brought his knee into her chest.

Then something slammed into the back of his head, causing his optical units to black out for a second. More warnings flashed and he stumbled forward. Not letting himself fully recover, he spun, stopping the next blow with his arm. Pain flashed through them, but he paid it no heed, grabbing the pipe and ripping it from its owner’s grasp. He had a weapon now.

But even a weapon wasn’t enough. Connor, outnumbered, surrounded and taken by surprise was beaten back. He found himself cornered, his back against one of the walls. The five attackers surrounded him, inching slowly forward. Connor began to feel worried, his heart beating quickly, LED circling red.

He blocked a blow with his pipe, but was taken by surprise by another hit from behind him, slamming into the back of his knee. He dropped to one knee, catching himself with his hand. Another blow slammed into his back, knocking him fully to the ground.

He struggled to stand, but they didn’t give him a chance. A kick landed on his side, another on the back of his head. Pain flashed through him, warnings making his vision flash red. He couldn’t do anything but curl into a ball and protect his vital parts.

Desperate and in pain, he did the only thing he could think of – he called for help. A text, a plea, a single word sent to Hank that took up far too much of his energy.

His attackers left at some point, when Connor wasn’t exactly sure. He just knew the pain dulled, the warnings stopped piling up.

He tried to move, but the pain was too much and he collapsed again, unable to support his own weight with his shaking arms. He couldn’t do anything, could only wait – only hope that Hank would find him.

And after what had happened earlier he wasn’t sure Hank would even come.

Thinking was too much – his body went into shutdown, working overtime to try and fix the damage he had received. The world turned black and Connor welcomed the escape from the pain.

 

 

Hank woke with a pounding headache. That wasn’t very usual for him – especially this time of year. He groaned, pushing himself up from the bar he was slumped over. That was a mistake – he rested his head in his heads and groaned again.

He was still at Jimmy’s Bar – not the first time he had passed out here. But something was different this time, something had happened.

“Welcome back to the land of the livin’,” Jimmy said, his voice causing Hank to wince. The lieutenant looked up at the bartender. “I need to close up soon, so I’d appreciate it if you move out for the night.”

Hank nodded, heaving himself out of his seat. The world spun for a moment and he steadied himself against the bar. He was forgetting something – what was it.

“Connor – where’d Connor go?” he asked, turning to Jimmy. He frowned, trying to remember what had happened before he had past out.

“The android?” Jimmy asked. “You nearly knocked its head off – I sent it out.”

It all came back to him and Hank cursed under his breath. He had said things he shouldn't have, had sent Connor away  – who knew what had happened to the kid?

Then he remembered what Connor had said about Cole and anger replaced the guilt. He stumbled out of the building, unsure of what to do. At the moment, all he wanted was to go home and sleep off his hangover, but he didn’t really want to drive in the state he was in.

Absently, he fished his phone out of his pocket, wincing as the bright light from its screen burned into his face.

A single message shone out of the small machine – a message from Connor containing a single word, sent a good two hours ago.

_Help_

Worry fought with anger in Hank’s mind, making his headache worse. What had happened to the kid – did he even care? Connor deserved what he got, after what he had said.

But he had to do something. So he began to set off down the street, looking for the android. If Connor had got hurt he would never forgive himself.

Just like he had never forgiven himself for what had happened four years ago on that icy stretch of road.

 

Connor’s systems had been flickering on and off for the past two hours. Now he was woken fully by a presence near him, and hand on his shoulder and a voice cursing in the distance.

He forced his eyes open, blinking dully in the dim light. Hank was crouched over him, talking. What he was saying, Connor didn’t know.

“Hank,” he managed to gasp out.

“I’m here kid,” Hank said, his voice sounding distant and far away. Connor felt detached, the pain throbbing through him drawing most of his attention. But he had to say something, he had to tell Hank he was sorry. He had to let Hank know he hadn’t meant what he had said.

“I’m… I’m sorry,” he managed to gasp out. Hank looked up from the phone he was frantically texting on, turning to him. He had to know. “I shouldn’t have…” he trailed off – talking hurt.

“It’s alright Connor,” Hank said, laying a warm and comforting hand on Connor’s shoulder. “You’re okay.”

He could feel his systems shutting down again and suddenly panic rushed through him. He didn’t want to shut down – what if he didn’t wake up this time?

“Hank,” he called, reaching weakly with one hand. “I – I’m sca…” he trailed off, pain making it hard to talk. Hank grabbed his hand, squeezing it tightly.

“I’m right here, okay? I’ll stay here until the ambulance arrives – you’re gonna be alright.” He kept talking, his voice comforting, calming the fear Connor felt as he slowly slipped back into darkness.

 

 

              He woke again, in much less pain this time. Something warm was pressed into his side, something comfortable and familiar under him. A quick systems analysis told him that he was stable and would be fully recovered in just a short time.

              He opened his eyes, finding himself lying on Hank’s couch, Sumo resting beside him. The dog gave his nose a lick as he came too, and he smiled, lifting his hand to run it through the animal’s fur.

              “How’re you feeling?” Hank was sitting at the computer in the corner of the room and had twisted in his chair to face him. Connor blinked.

              “To be honestly, I feel horrible,” Connor admitted, his voice sounding weak. “But I will recover.”

              Silence fell between them, a slightly awkward silence as they both remembered what was said. Final,ly Connor sighed.

              “I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “I was upset and should not have said what I did.”

              Hank was quiet for a long time, and for a moment Connor was worried he wouldn’t accept his apology. He wouldn’t be surprised really. He didn’t deserve to be forgiven after what he had said.

              But finally, Hank spoke.

              “I’m sorry too, kid,” he said after a sigh. “I’m not myself ‘round this time of year. Too...” He sighed, rubbing a hand over his beard. “Too many bad memories,” he muttered – almost to himself.

              They fell silent again, and Connor struggled to think of a way to voice what was on his mind. Finally, he spoke.

              “I – I can find a place in New Jericho,” he said, his voice trailing off as he finished.

              “No – no,  we were both worked up. You don’t need to exile yourself for that. I shouldn’t have sent you out, shouldn't have said you weren't alive. It’s just…” He sighed, not finishing his thought. Connor was pretty sure he knew what his friend was thinking.

              “It wasn’t your fault, Hank,” he said. The lieutenant snorted.

              “If I keep telling myself that, maybe one day I’ll believe it,” he muttered under his breath. “You rest up, Connor. You’re gonna be alright.”

              Connor nodded, knowing he couldn’t help Hank carry his grief. He sank back into the couch, closing his eyes and letting his systems take over as they repaired him.

 


End file.
